


The Terms of War

by pippinpie



Category: SS-GB (TV), SS-GB - Len Deighton
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, rebellious Archer, sort of vague because i wrote this while half asleep, with a serious disrespect for any and all authority
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 06:15:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13428543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pippinpie/pseuds/pippinpie
Summary: Huth attempts to order Archer around but is unprepared for Archer's contempt of authority...





	The Terms of War

**Author's Note:**

> This fandom needed more work so I went ahead and made it myself

It was dark outside. A seemingly all-consuming blackness in which even the brightest of streetlamps seemed drowned out, struggling to bring light to a world so desperate to repress it. Similar in predicament, Archer thought grimly as he stood gazing out over this new London, to those residing within this once-great city, seeking frantically to retain a modicum of what once brought them joy and hope. But now there was no room for that, not since the invasion. Any search for hope was futile, leaving an individual fruitless and more woebegone than before. He lit a cigarette and leaned against the smooth coolness of the window pane, shutting out the visions of his wife’s disapproval over what he had become, the aspects of himself that had always been lurking beneath the surface.

“A still night, the kind seemingly symbolic of change. Would you not agree, Archer?” 

The sudden shock of Huth’s voice at his shoulder caught Archer off guard, startling Archer from his contemplation as he turned quickly to meet the other man’s ruthless, grey eyes. He crossed his arms across his chest defensively, a reflex, quipping back a quick retort to resume his nonchalant aura.

“Well, sir, I can’t seem to see any evident changes. The London out there appears to be the same bloody place as it was yesterday and will most likely be the same London tomorrow. Full of your people.” He raised an eyebrow and brought his cigarette to his lips, inhaling deeply as though that was where he would find his courage. A challenge, the damned flicker of emotion Huth seemed so hell-bent on drawing from him.

Rather than rising to the bait, Huth released a short, amused laugh. 

“We both know that was not the change I was referring to, Archer. I was hoping that in light of considering your son’s… position… in events, you may have reconsidered my offer.”

Archer froze.

That complete and utter bastard.

How _dare_ he.

His shock must have shown on his face as Huth lightly snatched the cigarette from his fingers, raising it to his own lips with a victorious smile. 

“You see now, Archer, you are in no position to refuse. Or… maybe you are, though no good would come of it. You would be dead, your son would be dead, Harry would be dead. No good! Give in, you must give in now, Archer, as there will be no third chance for you. Really, you’re lucky to have even been provided a second.”

And in that moment, Archer knew he had lost the battle, that he had lost the entire fucking war to retain his morality.

He had never been so terrified.

And yet, he could not bring the words of compliance to burst forth from his lips. He couldn’t… It was over and yet…

Archer looked up at Huth, standing silently with that bloody self-assured grin on his face. The smug Nazi bastard, knowing, just knowing, he had already won. 

Without thinking twice, Archer swung his fist into the man’s jaw, furious.

Huth blinked, surprised, as he raised his hand to his jaw. The cigarette fell from his hands to the floor, extinguished like Archer’s hope of emerging from this confrontation with morals unscathed. 

“I advise you, Archer, to quit while you’re ahead. That’s twice now you have let your guard slip, and even that is two times too many. Honestly man, why do you think you’re here, standing with me right now, rather than rotting away in some cell? I can’t keep saving your hide every time you deign to step out of line so I would value some assistance in that regard.”

Archer sneered, livid. “If you, for one second, believe you hold any sway over me please think again, sir. I haven’t accepted your offer yet, you bastard. I won’t take direct orders from you.”

As he moved to push Huth away his wrist was suddenly caught in the Nazi’s vise-like grip. Then suddenly, very suddenly, he was being pulled forward, his lips connecting with Huth’s. A flame of a different kind ignited within him, spreading from the point of contact until it engulfed his entire being. He wanted Huth, had wanted him for some time, and yet… This was wrong. Not with one of them.

Archer felt Huth stroking his cheek with his free hand as he gasped for breath. “You will do as I tell you to do because you know this game of ours is over. Recognise you are defeated.”

Archer tore violently from his grip, hands shaking and breathing ragged as he sought to regain his previous composure. 

“Get your _fucking_ hands off me! What I do, I do it on my terms and not yours. I will not have them dictated to me, a concept I’m sure you wouldn’t understand.”

And then, just as suddenly as he had torn away, he had Huth pressed to the wall beside the window pane, hands buried in the other man’s hair as he kissed him long and hard. He had wanted and wanted and wanted for so long. Now was the time for taking.

A brief moan escaped from Huth as Archer broke away from the kiss to move his lips to Huth’s jaw, hands fumbling to unbutton the other man’s shirt. Huth’s hips bucked forward, seeking the friction he was so desperately lacking. Instead, he was awarded with Acher’s vicious grip at his waist immobilizing any further movements. Slowly removing his mouth from Huth’s jaw, he brought his mouth close, so close, to Huth’s ear and whispered softly.

“Stay right there.”

Now he moved faster, sloppily kissing and biting down Huth’s torso as he sunk down to his knees, hands trembling as he unfastened the other man’s trousers. He glanced quickly up to Huth, standing thoroughly debauched against the windowsill of his own damned office, eyes closed in bliss.

“Archer, please do something and stop staring at me.”

And Archer needed no further encouragement, his mouth engulfing Huth and drawing out the other man’s pleasure. He could feel hands buried deep in his hair, guiding his mouth and bringing forth a short whimper of approval that sent Huth over the edge. He pulled back, dazed, as he caught his breath staring up at Huth once more. Maintaining eye contact with Huth, Archer rose swiftly to his feet, pulling out another cigarette and lighting up as he leant against the wall beside the other man.

“As I said, my terms.” Archer breathed, passing his cigarette to Huth.

Huth laughed, accepting the cigarette. 

“As I can see, Superintendent. I assume this is you accepting my offer?”

Archer remained silent, but he needn’t say a word. He had lost this battle, lost a part of himself, but perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad after all.


End file.
